


Sweet November

by ArchangelUnmei



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble Collection, F/F, Fluff, Romance, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2017-11-17 13:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 6,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchangelUnmei/pseuds/ArchangelUnmei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of loosely connected drabbles outlining three stories of romance. Sometimes love is new and sweet and innocent, sometimes it is established and routine. Sometimes, love is sad and unrequited, but only if you give up on it.<br/>(Includes mainly Nyotalia characters, except for Hungary.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ceilidh

**Author's Note:**

> So I know I'm going to have not nearly enough time to attempt NaNoWriMo this year, but I wanted to do something for November anyway to keep me in the writing mood. So I had Shacha write me up a list of 30 prompts, and I'll do a drabble a day. And in the way of my brain, they've somehow been connected into a coherent narrative.
> 
> tl;dr - There aren't enough femslash fics in the Hetalia fandom.
> 
> Names: (They're not Nations in this, but I'll use the country names for ease of ID)  
> England - Elaine Kirkland  
> France - Marianne Bonnefoy  
> Canada - Madeline Bonnefoy  
> America - Abigail "Abby" Jones  
> Hungary - Elizaveta Herdervary  
> Prussia - Maria Beilschmidt  
> Austria - Elrica Edelstein

They don't get to go out very often. Tonight is the first time in nearly a month, in fact. Usually it's a movie on the couch with ice cream, and that's as fancy as their dates get. Marianne works days, and Elaine nights, so sometimes the only way they see each other is crawling into or out of bed.

But tonight they're out, and Marianne is determined to enjoy it. 

They're going to Elaine's favourite restaurant (anything without burnt scones, Marianne thinks charitably), a pub near the hospital where she works. It fronts onto a lovely plaza, cobblestones and trees within fences and an impressive stone and iron fountain in the center. The locals have hung faerie lights in the trees, and it's just dark enough for them to be coming on. Marianne lingers, despite Elaine pulling on her arm. 

"Come on, frog," Elaine sounds cross, and Marianne can just picture the pouting scowl. "You're the one who was complaining she was dying of hunger." 

"But stop and look, Elaine," Elaine does, but only because Marianne is smiling, bright and warm with faerie lights haloing her hair. "It's so beautiful." 

Someone nearby must have their windows open, because there's music drifting across the plaza, old violin and a cheerful guitar. Marianne hums along for a moment, then spontaneously grabs Elaine by the wrist and elbow and pulls her into a twirling dance across the cobblestones. 

Elaine squawks in protest, turning red to the tips of her ears, but she doesn't really try to pull away from her girlfriend (wife? partner? They really should get around to discussing terminology eventually). Her protests are only token, and somehow within the next minute she ends up properly in Marianne's arms, trying not to step on Marianne's toes and grumbling about how neither of them can dance and Marianne _are you possessed?_

Marianne is laughing, though, and slows the dance when they both start getting dizzy and they've nearly reached the pub in any case. "So beautiful," she murmurs again, to Elaine alone, and Elaine can only blush, because Marianne isn't looking at the scenery this time at all.


	2. Iridescence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight language warning in this chapter because Prussia.

Midway through her first term of engineering school, Maria decides to cut her hair.

It's long enough for her to sit on, fine as spun silk and unruly as fucking hell. No matter how tightly she pulls it back or how severely she braids it, it invariably ends up just as covered in grease as the rest of her after a day up to her shoulders in an engine. The only way to really deal with it effectively is to braid it tightly and then coil it up around her head, because if she leaves it trailing at _all_ it ends up caught on _everything_. 

Besides, it's not like she needs long hair anymore anyway. 

In hindsight, Maria can admit that growing it out had been a stupid idea. Like a bird with iridescent feathers, she'd been trying to attract her ideal mate. All based on an off-hand comment on the day they'd met, so very long ago and sweltering summer hot ( _"Your hair's **white**! It's so pretty! I wonder what it'd look like as long as mine..."_ ) 

And Maria had grown it long, and kept it long, and the object of her affections had never seemed to notice at all. 

Well fuck that. 

Eliza goes with her to the salon. She doesn't say anything, just watches as the stylist makes horrified noises and Maria growls that _yes_ , she's sure she wants it that short. The snipping of the scissors is loud, the buzz of the electric clippers even more so as the stylist cuts Maria's hair brutally short, until it sticks up in four centimetre spikes all over her head, even shorter in the back to keep it from tickling her neck. 

Maria crows, running her fingers through her newly cropped style and marveling at how light and springy it is. She never realized how _heavy_ all that long hair was until now. She looks down, seeing her hair laying around her on the floor, like a glittering puddle on the salon's linoleum. There's a slight pang of regret, but she ruffles her new hair again and reminds herself how much easier it'll be to work this way. 

She looks up at Eliza, and her smile fades. Maria's oldest friend has a strange look on her face, like she can't quite decide what she's looking at. It's only natural, Maria thinks to herself. She'll get used to it. 

After a moment, Eliza seems to find her voice, though she still sounds a bit like she's not aware of what's coming out of her mouth. "Maria... gosh, you look like a _boy_." 

Maria's good mood twists in her gut, and she can't help but scowl sharply, tossing her non-existent hair (that's gonna take some getting used to) and storming over to the counter to pay the stylist. What did Eliza have to go and say _that_ for? Bitch. 

(Behind her, Eliza crouches down and gently picks up a lock of Maria's long, long hair. She coils it around her fingers before tucking it into her bag, and the look in her eyes is sad.)


	3. Hell's Kitchen

The first time Marianne comes home to an apartment that smells like smoke, she is less than amused.

Elaine claims it isn't her fault, that she only left the kitchen for a second to double-check the recipe she was using online. (Though when Marianne presses, she's forced to admit she may have been slightly distracted by checking her email and it may have been a little longer than a second.) The scones she'd been trying to make are lumps of gray and black charcoal on the cookie sheet, only identifiable as scones at all because that's what Elaine says they are. It's a minor miracle that the cookie sheet itself is intact and the oven, though in need of a thorough scrubbing, isn't permanently scarred either (except perhaps in spirit). 

And that first time, because Marianne doesn't know any better (yet), she offers to show Elaine what she did wrong. 

Marianne has always loved to cook. She has fond memories of her teenage years, helping her younger sister Madeline make dinner because their parents were working late. It was a good time for sisterly bonding; sorting ingredients and debating which dishes went better together and what they were in the mood to eat that particular night. Best of all were times when they managed to surprise their parents with a cake for their anniversary or just exactly what they'd been craving all day. Marianne and Madeline both had been so proud, and both still love getting together to cook when they can, even though Marianne lives on her own now. 

But Elaine, it seems to Marianne, has never been in a kitchen before in her life. 

She acts almost as though she's scared of the kitchen, tip toeing about and picking things up with the tips of her fingers, like she's afraid of breaking them or getting her hands dirty. Marianne watches her for a few moments, then purses her lips. "Elaine, my dear, no wonder your scones turned to stone. You must be confident enough to take a whisk in hand and beat your dough to within an inch of its life. Cooking is an art form, and you mustn't be tentative about it." 

Elaine bristles, planting her hands on her hips and staring Marianne down as though she's an enemy to be conquered. "An art form? You've got to be kidding me. Fancy cakes maybe, but I just wanted to make scones!" 

"Even then," Marianne says serenely, scrubbing at a stubborn bit of batter dried on the stove top. "The recipe may be mathmatic, but you must have a certain... _je ne sais quoi_. A certain style about it." 

Elaine rolls her eyes, clearly less than convinced. "I doubt it. Any idiot can follow a basic recipe." 

"Except you, it seems," Marianne gives her a shrewd sideways look, and barely manages to duck the spatula Elaine flings at her head. 

The second time Marianne comes home to an apartment that smells like smoke, she bans Elaine from the kitchen altogether.


	4. Waffles

In Miss de Vries' home economics class, Friday is breakfast day.

This is better than every other day, because usually the projects come out actually good enough to eat, and the last fifteen minutes of class is spent with twenty-four high school third-years and one Dutch-Belgian teacher eating their own weight in waffles, bacon and pancakes. 

On Fridays, Madeline doesn't feel quite as much like a wall-flower. Normally, she's perfectly content to sit back and let her (loud, energetic) classmates swirl around her and overlook her. But everyone knows Madeline is actually a decent cook, and on Fridays especially, everyone scrambles to be her partner. She thinks if they paid her that much attention _all_ the time she'd lose her mind. But once a week, it's pretty nice to be fawned over. 

Except that for the last month or so, no one's really been given a choice when it comes to Madeline's cooking partner. For the last three weeks, Abby Jones has marched into class, sat down beside Madeline, and not taken 'no' for an answer. And it looks like it's going to be the same way again this week. 

Madeline watches Abby out of the corner of her eye, watches the way she squirms in her seat, fingers tapping against the edge of the desk in restlessness. Abby always seems to need to move, to get on and _do_ things, even at the expense of listening to directions. Madeline learned that the hard way the first time Abby was her home ec partner; only the fact that Madeline's spent most of her life cooking with her older sister saved their pancakes from total disaster. 

But Abby is smart and pretty, she loves to talk to anyone who'll listen, and she seems to know most of their classmates by name at least. No one dislikes Abby. No one could ever overlook Abby, not even if they tried. 

"Why me?" 

Madeline doesn't quite realize she's said that out loud, not until Abby turns and looks at her, one eyebrow raised. "Huh?" 

Madeline blushes fiercely, dropping her gaze down to her lap. She bites her lip, then forces herself to continue the thought once the weight of Abby's gaze becomes unbearable. "Why did you choose me? You could have picked anyone to be your partner." 

Abby looks at her for a moment, then shrugs and smiles (her smile does funny things to Madeline's insides, makes her feel warm and her stomach turn over a little). "I'd usually pair with Kiku like I do for chemistry and like everything else ever, but the little bastard got out of taking home ec somehow. You're really good, so it's not like you're going to tank my grade. And besides, you're really cute, Maddie." 

Madeline - Maddie squeaks, sure that she's going to pass out if she blushes any harder. 

Miss de Vries just smiles and makes no comment when Abby reaches over and takes Maddie's hand under the desk.


	5. Embers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight sexual content in this chapter.

The afterglow from make-up sex is glorious.

Marianne doesn't precisely _enjoy_ fighting with Elaine, though she does love needling her, teasing her, watching her turn red and huff and stomp her feet, like they're both twelve years old with childish crushes, rather than fully grown women in love. She doesn't so much like when Elaine stops huffing and turns her back, when things go silent between them for days on end. Marianne still cooks because otherwise Elaine would starve, but there are no words between them, no thanks and no smiles. When Elaine comes home from work in the mornings, she stays up the extra hour or two so she won't be going to bed until Marianne is already awake and up (Marianne is always awake, because if she doesn't feel Elaine sliding into bed around seven, it wakes her more efficiently than any alarm). When she's angry, Elaine is a _bitch_. 

Not that Marianne is any better, sometimes. She can be catty, and she knows it, picking at the smallest flaws again and again. Her coworkers can all tell when she and Elaine are having a fight, she catches them whispering fearfully about her wrath. Marianne tries hard not to take her annoyances out on them, but sometimes it's impossible to keep her scowls from showing through. 

But somehow, so far, as much as they fight, they've always made up. Seven years of knowing each other, five years of dating, three and a half years sharing a kitchen and a bathroom and a bed, and they're still together. Still at each others' throats at least every other month, but still together. Marianne thinks sometimes they're like that scientific principle; an unstoppable force meets an immoveable object, neither giving way and always drawn close together. 

As much as they fight, they always make up, usually with Marianne making Elaine's favourite dessert (apple strudel with vanilla ice cream, surprisingly simple for someone as fussy as Elaine), or Elaine relenting enough to curl against Marianne's back in bed. Whatever that point of forgiveness is, it usually leads to the make-up sex. 

Marianne wonders cynically sometimes if the fighting is what makes the sex so sweet, or if anticipation of the sex is what makes them fight. 

But either way, it leads here, both of them sweaty and breathless, and tangled in the sheets. Elaine's baggy t-shirt is shoved up around her armpits, and she's trying absently to tug it down over her breasts and stomach without moving too much. Marianne's hair came out of its ribbon at some point, and she can't move her head much because Elaine is pinning most of her hair to the bed. She only hopes their hair hasn't managed to get knotted _together_ again; she thought Elaine was going to have a fit last time. Still in a blissful haze, Marianne wonders whose panties ended up flung the farthest this time, and whether or not the cat is going to sleep on them again. 

She shifts a little, attempting to free some of her hair, and curls an arm around Elaine's waist to pull her close. She huffs, but gives up on her shirt and grabs a blanket instead, dragging it up over them both as she settles her head against Marianne's shoulder. Marianne smiles, soft and sleepy and gentle, and presses a kiss to the top of Elaine's head. "Je t'aime." 

Elaine's face is hidden against Marianne's shoulder and the edge of the blanket, but it doesn't matter. Marianne can hear both the blush and the smile layered across her voice, husky and sweet as Elaine throws a leg over hers and settles close. 

"You too, frog."


	6. Rotkehlchen

Maria isn't someone that would generally be pegged as an animal lover.

She sneers at cute things of all shapes and sizes, gleefully accosts squirrels and cats with water guns, and looks criminally good in faux fur and leopard print. But it isn't that she doesn't like animals. She does, they just have to be certain _kinds_ of animals. She and Eliza took horse riding lessons together when they were younger, and Maria's family always had two or three dogs when she was growing up that she _adored_ (big and shaggy and all tongue and legs and fur, sometimes she thought she loved the dogs better than her parents). 

And birds. 

Even as long as they've known each other, Eliza has no idea what the thing is with Maria and birds. 

Maria whistles, Maria chirps when she's happy, crows when she's won and sings in the mornings. In some ways, her shorter hair makes her more bird-like than ever, it reminds Eliza of a bird's next a lot of the time. 

"Why haven't you ever gotten a pet bird?" Eliza asks her once, the two of them flopped on the floor of Maria's apartment, trying to ignore the sweltering heat and half-watching Adventure Time on her tiny television. 

Maria rolls over and gives Eliza a look like she's crazy. "A pet _bird_?" 

"Sure, why not? I thought you liked birds." 

"I do," Maria stares at her, and Eliza wonders if there's chocolate smears on her face or something. "Birds. Flying things, outside, in the sky. No bird should ever be in a cage, that's fucking disgusting." 

Eliza blinks, then smiles and props herself up on one elbow to ruffle Maria's hair. She doesn't ask about birds again, and the next morning when a robin starts singing outside her window, she thinks of Maria and smiles.


	7. Aubade

Maddie is the first period library aid at school, and she loves it. First period is quiet, the students are too sleepy to be rowdy. Maddie's a good student, mature and hard working, so the librarians are happy to give her actual work to do, rather than just assigning her to watch the desk and check out books.

This week, she's been working on inventory, moving through non-fiction and scanning the barcode on each book to try and determine which ones aren't accounted for and which are simply mishelved. No one bothers her, and she has an hour and a half to finish these next two aisles at her leisure. 

As she comes around the end of the shelf, wireless scanner in hand, she pauses. She can hear music, very faintly. The library is too far from the choir room for it to be that, and besides, even though the music is faint, it sounds close. 

Puzzled, Maddie follows the music around the corner and into an odd little jut of shelves not visible from the door or the central desk. The music is definitely louder, and when Maddie peers in between two of the shelves she finds out why. 

Abby is sitting on the floor with her back to a shelf, ear buds blasting and chewing on a breakfast burrito, history textbook open across her knees. 

Maddie gasps in surprise, casting an instinctive, fleeting glance back over her shoulder in case the librarians are near. They're not, and Maddie ducks into the alcove to kneel beside Abby. "Hey!" she hisses, reaching out to tug one of Abby's ear buds out so the other girl can hear her. "You can't have food in here!" 

Abby looks less than intimidated, taking a pointed bite of her burrito. "Calm down," she brushes a few crumbs off her book, and swallows before she speaks again. "It's fine, the old bats never catch me and it's not like I leave a huge mess. Are you going to arrest me?" 

"Am I what?" Maddie stares at her until she follows Abby's gaze and realizes that she's staring at the scanner. "....Yes, I'm totally going to arrest you," she said dryly, aiming the scanner at Abby like a gun and cracking a smile when Abby flails dramatically. Maddie gives up, lowering the scanner and flopping to sit beside her. "What're you listening to?" 

"Here," Abby scoots a little closer, offering Maddie one of her ear buds so they could put their heads together and both listen. Maddie tries to pretend her cheeks aren't pink as she takes the offered earphone and holds it close so that the staticky music resolves itself into jumpy pop. 

_If anyone could make me a better person, you could!_   
All I gotta say is, I musta done something good.   
You came along one day and rearranged my life-   
All I gotta say is, I musta done something right. 

Maddie gives Abby a bemused look. "Reliant K?" 

Abby turns pink, and punches Maddie playfully on the shoulder. "Hey, you apparently know enough to recognize them!" 

"Alright, fair enough," Maddie laughs, leaning her shoulder comfortably against Abby's. "What else have you got?" 

They stay there until the end of first period, when they both have classes to go to.


	8. Big Bad Wolf

Maria has weird dreams sometimes (because she refuses to call them nightmares). 

Dreams about falling endlessly and knowing that jagged rocks or barbed wire or a forest of broken glass waits at the bottom. Dreams about running through the woods, being pursued by faceless, evil, wolf-like shark-like raptor-like monsters. Dreams about sitting on the staircase and trying not to make a sound, because she can hear her parents fighting again and maybe if she makes herself small enough and quiet enough she'll disappear to someplace else.

Weird dreams. 

Eliza has known about them ever since they were kids and Maria used to wake up crying sometimes in the middle of the night at their sleepovers. Maria hates being coddled, and hates anyone thinking she needs help, but she never protested when Eliza would slide under the blankets with her and hug her back to sleep. Maybe it's because Eliza never said a word, never asked Maria what was wrong, and never, ever spoke a word about what happened the next morning. The nightmares are like an unspoken secret between the two of them, shared in the softness of couches and the darkness of midnight. 

When they decide to be roommates at university, Eliza doesn't think anything of it. 

When Eliza wakes the first time, she wonders why. It's still dark, only the light from the streetlamps outside bleeding in through the thin curtains to give the room an eerie sort of twilight. It must still be very early, there aren't even any birds singing yet. She's just about to roll over and grab her phone to check the time when she hears the whimper from the bunk below her. 

She freezes, waiting to see if she hears it again or if it was just the creak of the mattress. But a moment later it comes again, half-whine and half-whimper, a rustle as Maria tosses restlessly in her sheets. 

Eliza bites her lip in worry and sits up. She'd always assumed Maria left her nightmares behind with childhood, but apparently she's wrong. She only debates what to do for a moment, though, and pushes her sheets aside to swing her legs over the side of her bunk and drop to the floor. The _'thunk_ ' as she lands wakes Maria properly, and she sits straight up with a short, startled scream, eyes wide and chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. She's still staring, trying to get her bearings in the darkness when Eliza sits on the edge of her bed, reaches out to brush her hair back soothingly. 

Maria shudders, scrubbing a hand over her face and muttering something in German that Eliza only half-catches. But she doesn't move away, so Eliza takes that as consent and slides in beside her properly, hip to hip so she can wrap her arms around Maria and pull her close, just like when they were so much smaller. 

Maria lets out a sound like a soft sigh, curling into Eliza and laying her head on her shoulder, letting Eliza run fingers through her hair. "Danke, Eliza." 

Eliza just smiles and hugs her a little closer, in the soft darkness of their shared room.


	9. Matelot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do the characters never stay on topic? =A= Seriously, this would have been so much shorter, and then Abby started talking.

"Sometimes I really _hate_ school."

Maddie blinks down at her calculus homework in surprise. She's thought that herself before, but she never expected to hear it from popular, good-at-everything Abby. The two of them are up in Maddie's bedroom trying to finish their homework before going to a movie tonight. Kiku had been planning on going with them, but today at school said that something had come up with his family, and they should go and have a good time anyway. Maddie's sitting on her bed, one leg folded underneath her as she tries to fit her head around the numbers in front of her, and Abby is sprawled on her stomach on the floor, t-shirt riding up just enough to show a stripe of her lower back, toned and tanned from swimming. 

"...Really?" Maddie asks after a moment, peering down at Abby over the top of her glasses. 

Abby nods, rolling over onto her back to stare up at the ceiling, ignoring the fact that her head is now pillowed on her biology textbook and geometry notes. "Yeah. Teenagers are _awful_ sometimes, especially boys. Well, not Kiku, but I've known him like forever. But other boys are pigs." 

Maddie frowns, just a little, and slips off the bed to sit beside Abby on the floor, leaning back against the bed frame. "Did something happen, Abby?" 

"No. Yes. Kind of?" Abby rolls over again, wiggling in sheer frustration and somehow ending up with her head in Maddie's lap. Maddie squeaks a bit, but doesn't protest, and after a moment threads her fingers gently through Abby's hair. Abby makes a pleased sound at the petting, letting her eyes slip closed. "They just make awful comments when us girls suit up. I mean, it's not even a bikini, it's the school's one-piece _swim team_ suit, and they still catcall and whistle at our legs and yell that we should show them our tits." 

Maddie realizes after a moment that the hand not in Abby's hair is clenched tightly into a fist by her side, and she tries to make herself relax a little. "That's _terrible_." 

Abby nods, still not opening her eyes. "Once, this one guy was really harassing me, saying that I had a cute butt and he'd really like to be my boyfriend so he'd get to see it more. He wasn't trying to touch me or anything, but it was really pissing me off, so I told him I had a girlfriend." 

Maddie swallows hard, going still and subconsciously holding her breath. "...What did he do?" 

"He said I should bring her along next time, so he could see both our butts." Abby snorts. "Jackass. I'm glad I'm graduating next year." 

"Marianne says university isn't any better," Maddie offers, her heart still pounding way too hard for some reason. "There's always going to be stupid people." 

"Yeah," Abby sighs, homework apparently abandoned in favour of letting Maddie pet her hair. "...Hey Maddie?" 

"Hm?" 

"We'll still be friends after high school, right?" 

Maddie leans over enough to look down at her and catch her eye. "Definitely. You're the one who latched onto me, so you're not getting away that easily." 

Abby grins, reaching up to tug on a lock of Maddie's hair. "Hey Maddie?" 

"What?" Maddie rolls her eyes in exasperation and bats at her hand. 

"What would you think if I really had a girlfriend?" 

Maddie's heart is suddenly pounding way too hard again, but she forces herself to slow down and think about what she's saying. "....Why would it matter? You're still Abby. I guess I'd say she's a really lucky girl." Somehow it hurts a little to say those words, but she says them. "Anyway, that's a stupid question. You know my sister's gay, so you already know I'd be fine with whoever you decide to love." 

"Well yeah, but I'm not Marianne." 

"Thank goodness. One of her is more than enough." 

Abby laughs. "Yeah, guess so." She sits up, shoving her notes off to the side. "We'd better get going, we're gonna miss the movie." 

Maddie bites her lip, then decides she's been shy long enough, and she really wants to take this chance. "Hey Abby?" 

Abby grins at her, and puts her hands on her hips. "Don't you start that!" 

Maddie ignores the teasing and plunges on. "Did Kiku make an excuse to not come tonight so this would be a date?" She watches in fascination as Abby slowly turns bright red. "Did he?" 

She nods finally, looking somewhere over Maddie's shoulder instead of looking at Maddie herself. "I asked him to. He said I should just flat out ask you out, but I chickened out." 

Slowly, Maddie begins to smile, and she reaches out to take Abby's hand. "You shouldn't have. I would have said yes." 

Abby's beaming now, still flushed pink and delighted, and she gives Maddie's hand a squeeze. "So... I guess then _you're_ that really lucky girl." 

"...Yeah," Maddie steps closer, leans over to kiss Abby's cheek. "I definitely am."


	10. Praying and Preying

With two women as different as Elaine and Marianne are, it only makes sense that they would belong to different religions as well. Or, well, to different branches, depending on who you talk to. Elaine has always been and always will be Anglican, and gets extremely cross with anyone who doesn't know the difference between Anglican and Protestant or (heaven forbid) Anglican and Catholic. Growing up, she went to church with her family every Sunday like clockwork. She still tries to go whenever she can, but working nights at the hospital means she only ends up making it about once a month. But that's better than nothing, she thinks.

Marianne, on the other hand, has very fond memories of her all-girls' Catholic high school (Madeline, the poor dear, after listening to Marianne talk about it for four years, decided that she wanted to go to a public high school instead). She offers, once, too see if the school uniform still fits, and Elaine turns a very fetching shade of red at the thought. Generally, Marianne only goes to church on Christmas and Easter with the rest of her family, and she figures that God really has better things to do than take attendance. 

Religion isn't really a point of contention between them though, neither of them is _really_ devout enough to care. Not beyond Marianne occasionally whispering "My angel" into Elaine's hair, or Elaine swearing on Father Son and Holy Ghost when Marianne vexes her. 

And if, occasionally, Marianne saunters through the living room in nothing but a white blouse and short pleated skirt and gives Elaine a 'come hither' smile, well... no one can blame Elaine for getting up to follow her.


	11. Insousiance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes yes, I know I'm behind, life happens. OTL

"She's so beautiful."

Maria rolls her eyes and gives a put upon sigh. Eliza pays her no attention, so she sighs again, more loudly this time. Eliza glances at her briefly, then turns her attention back to the poster in the store window. It portrays a woman about their age with long, dark hair, sitting at a piano, and the caption announces the piano concert the weekend next at the local arts center. "What's your problem, Maria?" 

"You're pathetic," Eliza gives her a sharp look, and Maria holds her hands up defensively. "Seriously," she nods toward the poster Eliza's been cooing over for the past five minutes. "A classical musician? I thought you had higher standards." 

"Shut up," Eliza elbows her in the side. "It's called culture." 

"She looks like a stuck up bitch," Maria comments, eyeballing the calmly smiling woman in the poster. 

" _Culture_ ," Eliza emphasizes with another dirty look. "Her music is beautiful. She's refined, dignified and-" 

"Feminine," Maria fills in, an odd note colouring her voice. Eliza looks at her quickly, but her expression is closed and unreadable, whatever's behind her eyes carefully shuttered. 

"Well yes," Eliza admits, frowning at her best friend. "And actually, I got the chance to meet her a couple weeks ago, she's really nice. We're meeting for coffee this weekend." 

She's completely unprepared for Maria's sudden burst of anger. 

"What the fuck's going on with you, Lizzie? Last I checked, you couldn't care less about pretty dresses or perfect manners or long, luscious hair-" she shuts her mouth abruptly, flushing red and fists clenching tightly at her sides. 

Eliza stares at her, feeling like there's something more to Maria's outburst, lurking just below the surface. "What's wrong with me? What's wrong with _you_?" 

"Nothing!" Maria scowls and runs a frustrated hand through her hair, making it stick up in uneven spikes, like a bird's crest. "You're the one who's changing!" 

Eliza blinks, a bit stunned at the accusation. "Because I like classical piano and I want to go out for coffee instead of a beer with you and the guys? Grow up, Maria! You don't get a say in who I decide to hang out with." She pauses as something dawns on her, watching the expression on Maria's face. "You're jealous, aren't you? You're jealous that I have a date with Elrica Edelstein." 

For a brief moment Maria looks like she's been slapped, and Eliza regrets being so blunt. Then Maria spins away from her, shoulders tight and back straight, like a soldier on parade. "Fine!" she calls over her shoulder. "Enjoy your date with Miss Priss! Just don't come crying to me when it turns out she's a cold fish!" 

She storms away, and can't help but notice that while Eliza calls after her, she doesn't follow. Maria manages to wait until she's around a corner and out of sight before she rubs at her eyes, smearing mascara across her sleeve. 

Jealous, maybe. But not of Eliza.


	12. Mad as Rabbits

Once a month, on the last Friday of each month, a group meets for coffee in the back corner of the local pub. Four of them are nurses, hair pulled back and wearing scrubs and gearing up to go onto the overnight shift in a few hours. The other three are maids at a four star hotel a few blocks away, tired and drooping from working a full day. At twilight they meet and mingle and eventually all get sat down at their usual table with an eclectic mix of coffees and teas and one chai latte spiked with vodka snuck out of a purse.

One of the nurses speaks first, her eyes twinkling in good humor as she looks around at the gathered group. "Elaine was in a really good mood last night." 

"She got laid," one of the maids waves a hand dismissively, her French accent thick enough to touch. "Marianne told me so. There was a party they went to, and Marianne got her tipsy and into bed for the entire night." 

"A party," the youngest of the nurses gives an envious sigh. "I wish I had time to go to parties." 

"Elaine only ever goes when Marianne drags her," another of the nurses points out, sipping her alcoholic latte. "She works longer hours than any of us, she deserves her nights off." 

"Was the party at Antonio's?" the youngest nurse asks, refusing to be side-tracked. A sigh runs around the table at the mention of Elaine's ex; half the sighs are of admiration, half of exasperation. 

"Clearly not," one of the other maids says reasonably, head tilted to one side as she reties one of her pigtails. "If Antonio was around, Elaine never would have let herself get tipsy." 

"She would have gotten roaring drunk instead," the lone male nurse interjects, only half joking. 

"Either way, she wouldn't have gotten laid." 

"We should have our own party," the third maid muses, absently chewing on the end of the straw for her bubble tea. "But we never have the same time off except right now." 

"I'd like that," the young nurse says, a little shyly. "Between work and school I don't have much time, but..." 

"We could have it at my place," the male nurse suggests. "My husband won't mind." 

The nurse who spoke first pouts at him and leans over to give him a playful punch to the shoulder. "You know I'm allergic to dogs!" 

"Ah, I forgot Kit, I'm sorry-" 

The French maid sighs loudly, but no one is paying her much attention anymore. "Why do we even have these meetings?" 

"Because, they're useful when Marianne and Elaine are at each other's throats. Comparing notes means we all know when to stay out of their way. Here," the nurse offers her the flask of vodka. 

The maid stares at her for a moment, then takes the flask with a slight smile. "I guess it can't hurt." She eyes the rest of the group, then gives up and knocks back a shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: These are all actual Hetalia characters, and none of them are genderbent. I'll give you one for free; the nurse I called Kit is New Zealand. Good luck figuring out the rest.


	13. Schadenfreude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear sweet Jesus, this is late. @_@ But I always write better with prompts and I'm despairing over the lack of Hetalia femslash again, so I figured rather than find new prompts I'd just continue on the list I already have.

Maria's been avoiding her, Eliza is 98% sure of it.

Sure, Maria _is_ very busy a lot of the time, between classes and the part time job she got at a local garage, but usually she's at least back in the dorm room during the evenings and mornings, sitting around in boxers with her feet up on Eliza's dresser as she drinks coffee. But ever since that weird fight they had over Elrica Edelstein, Maria's been staying out later, sneaking out of bed earlier to purposefully avoid Eliza. 

And as much as that exasperates her, annoys her, as much as she's sure that Maria's just being an immature _child_ , Eliza can't help but feel a little bit weird and guilty. She and Maria have been best friends for a long time, Eliza never expected a _woman_ of all things to come between them. 

(Though there were plenty of signs, she can't help but think. Maria's never shown interest in boys, once confessed to Eliza in hushed darkness that she'd kissed another girl their senior year of high school and _really liked it_ , hangs out with rowdy, loud male engineering students with every indication of being 'one of the guys'...) 

She's startled out of her thoughts at the sound of a key in the lock and the door swinging open to admit German swearing. Eliza peeks over the top of her textbook to find Maria standing in the doorway, covered in grease and dust (nothing unusual) and looking tired (slightly unusual). She scowls when she sees Eliza, and steps back as though she's going to pull the door closed and leave again. 

Suddenly annoyed beyond belief, Eliza tosses her book onto her bed and gets up, striding across the room to grab Maria's arm and haul her bodily inside. "Maria, you're being _stupid_ -" She stops when Maria hisses and flinches under her hands, looks down and has to stifle a gasp. There's a long cut on Maria's arm just above her wrist. It's not much more than a scratch, really, but it's covered in grease and now that she's paying attention the skin feels warm and swollen. Eliza makes a sound of dismay, switching her grip to Maria's sleeve instead and hauling her toward the bathroom despite her protests. "Did you even clean this properly?!?" 

Maria huffs, subsiding into a sulk but finally letting Eliza pull her along. "I was holdin' a part up for Ludwig, I couldn't quite stop and let it drop on his head." 

"You should have cleaned it right after!" Eliza's going into what Maria calls 'full mother mode', pulling their first aid kit out from under the sink and bullying Maria into sitting down on the closed toilet so she can clean up the cut before it gets further infected. "Serves you right." 

Maria wrinkles her nose in a scowl, and suddenly Eliza is struck by how _familiar_ this is. Both of them were always getting into scrapes as children, falling off things and out of things and down hills and ditches, but for whatever reason it was almost always Maria who actually ended up hurt. Eliza has spent so many afternoons patching up her friend just like this, at least some things haven't changed. 

Smiling a little and ignoring Maria's grumbling, Eliza gets the cut cleaned up and bandaged, then leans down to press a gentle kiss to the back of Maria's wrist, kissing this boo-boo just like so many others over the years. 

(Both pretend not to notice how much Maria blushes this time.)


	14. Wish List

When Abby was nine, she got bored and wrote a list describing the characteristics of an ideal husband. It included things like "8) Strong enough to pick me up" and "12) Plays soccer" and "17) Makes lots of money" and "21) Calls me 'Tiger' ". Everyone who read it (including both her parents) delighted in pointing out that the things on her list mostly described her older cousin Alfred. Despite her embarassment, she kept the list, secreted in her top dresser drawer along with her diary, a tangle of her favourite hair clips, and her nicest bras and panties. She knows the list by heart, used to take it out and sigh over it when she was feeling particularly lonely. 

She wrote the list with cute boys and movie stars (and her cousin) in mind, and Maddie fits none of it. She isn't tall, and she definitely can't pick Abby up, and her shoulders aren't broad. She is blond, but she doesn't have a 'sun-kissed tan'. (Abby admits she was a little shallow when she was nine.) 

Instead, Maddie's delicate, soft. She has graceful hands and silky, wavy hair and long legs and beautiful eyes. One day in English class, Maddie is giving a presentation, and Abby realizes that she's spacing out and spending a lot of time staring at Maddie's breasts in that (really nice!) blouse. 

('Breasts' are definitely not on nine-year-old Abby's list, but they're steadily working their way up sixteen-year-old Abby's.) 

There's not a single moment when Abby sits down and thinks "Oh, maybe I like girls." There's just a bunch of moments, Maddie and video games and studying together, shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh and at _some_ point Abby realizes she needs to rewrite her list. 

It really isn't much of a _list_ , just 'Madeline Bonnefoy' with a bunch of hearts around it (and below that, 'Boobs').


End file.
